Kiss Me? Jjk.

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

#he's not just some guy he's my WIFE

↳ iconic hobi tags by and for @hopeinthebox 🤍 cr. jung-koook, 0613data

6 Levi's horrible flirting skills! 9

-> Part 1 and 2!

-> Part 3!

-> Part 4!

-> Part 5!

-> Part 6!

-> Part 7!

-> Part 8!

-> Part 9!

-> Part 10!

-> Part 11!

CHANTAJE! (xxiv)

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: playing l&ds im so close to writing imagines of them omg

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“You shouldn’t even be up.”

You turned your head to the side to see Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi with bags in their hands. You frowned at the groceries in confusion and simply stared.

“Why are you bringing groceries?” You asked, turning to open your fridge to see if they had come across it. But, much to your relief, the fridge wasn’t entirely empty. “I’m fine.”

Snorting at your words, Yoongi placed the bags on your kitchen counter while simultaneously taking away the knife you were using to cut the apple you wanted to eat. He gracefully took over.

“Go sit your ass down,” he said with a voice as soft as his hands, which you felt when he grabbed the knife away.

You huffed and, with a leg raised, hopped away towards the table in the kitchen that Min-seo usually sat by to eat during her lunch. You quietly sat, and the boys could see your dramatics were at a high due to the pout on your lips still stuck there after 3 minutes passed.

Hobi, having made eye contact with Jimin who was staring at you, tilted his head your way. Jimin frowned, mouthing a “What?” to state his confusion, his eyes watching Hoseok’s lips move.

“Go talk to her,” Hobi mouthed again, getting closer to him to nudge him on the side.

Jimin pursed his lips at coming to understand what he was saying and rapidly shook his head.

He glanced at the back of your head and wondered. What would he talk to you about? Your kiss again? Maybe. That should be something interesting to talk about considering you can’t even look at him without panicking. He can see your body tense when he’s near and he can feel your body heat warming him up if he even dares brush his arm against yours. He can read you so easily and you don’t even know about it.

With one last push, Jimin staggers off and sits on the chair next to you, softly clearing his throat.

You tense beside him, he noticed. Your fingers lightly twitched as soon as he leaned back against his chair, legs slightly spread with his hands resting on his thighs.

“If I give you another kiss will you look at me?” He muttered under his breath with almost a breathy tone. He couldn’t help but admit to himself that he missed the way your lips brushed against his and the way your fingers intertwined itself with the strands of his hair. Your lips fit so perfectly with his he yearned for more. “It’s just an option.”

“I will stand up and walk on my hurt foot if you continue,” you threatened, looking at him.

He smiled with his eyes in satisfaction at being able to have you look at him.

“Do it,” he said with a shrug. “It’s going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me.”

“I’m going to bite you,” you retorted back, eyes squinted. You could see he thought you were bluffing but, you weren’t. So, you stood up on your hurt ankle, and walked away from him. He watched you and the way you didn’t even flinch that much being on your foot.

He shook his head, standing up to grab you.

His hands made their way under your knees, the other going around your waist, and he squatted down a bit to pick you up better.

“Shut the fuck up and stay still,” he warned, sitting down on his chair with you on his lap. He shook his head to the side to get rid of the strand of hair blocking his view, and he couldn’t help but look at you.

He bit his lower lip, his eyes becoming slightly hooded and dark at the idea of being so close to you. He could grab the back if your head and bring you closer and closer until your lips were hovering over his. He could feel the need of his tongue to explore your mouth and feels yours and he could feel the need of having you straddle him again. How beautiful you would look with that dazed expression on your face after having kissed him. He loved it.

“Jimin, be careful with her,” Yoongi mumbled loud enough for him to hear across the room. Jimin glanced at the man over his shoulder and hummed to let him know he was listening. He knew he should be careful with you, so he placed a hand on your thigh and let it run up and down in a comforting manner.

Fuck that comfortable manner, though, because his touch made you tense up. You didn’t know if it was because his legs were flexing under you or the fact his chest was slightly exposed due to the buttons of dress shirt being unbuttoned. He was looking off to the side to look at the food Yoongi and Hobi were making and you were looking at his side profile.

His lips, his plump lips, the ones that were soft and warm and wet against yours, were parted to talk, and his eyes were like stars under the warm light in your kitchen that gave off such a nice vibe to you all.

His touch was distracting you.

“Here,” you snapped out of your thoughts to look up at Hobi bringing you a smoothie he made. He had a teasing smile on his face as he looked at you. “Just to cool you down.”

“I-” You could only let out, noticing he glanced at Jimin to make sure he wasn’t looking so he could wink at you. You waved him off and downed the smoothie.

But of course, Jimin grabbed it off your hands after you took a couple of sips, and grabbed it with one of his hands while the other still maintained its spot on your thigh. He held you tight so you wouldn’t slip off and it made your mind go crazy and quiet.

His lips touched the part you sipped from and you swore your heart sped up to the point you could hear it thundering in your ears.

Could he hear it, too?

“This is good, right?” Jimin asked after he gulped down the drink. He looked down at you with his brows furrowed as he savored the taste. “I like it.”

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. You looked at Hobi over the cup he was drinking from again. “It’s great, Hobi.”

Hobi smiled. “Thank you!” He backed away so you could see the ingredients. “I can make you a strawberry and banana smoothie or a blueberry smoothie. Just let me know whenever you want one so I can make it.”

“I’ll hire you as my personal chef,” you said, grabbing the cup away from Jimin’s hand to take another sip. “It’s so good.”

“It’s just a smoothie guys,” Hoseok snorted out, waving off your compliments. He eyed you and Jimin with an amused look. Even Yoongi was hiding his smile behind his hair as he looked down at the cutting board. “Why don’t you guys stay in the living room? We’ll come get you once we finish dinner.”

“Since you say so.”

You couldn’t even take another sip of the smoothie before Jimin picked you up again without any hesitation.

“What the hell?” You gaped, holding onto his neck. You wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped you. He had the stupid habit of playing with you and teasing you, so you didn’t want to take any chances.

As he sat down, much to your surprise, he kissed you.

You gasped in surprised and stayed in shock before feeling the way his fingers dug into the flesh of your skin, the the tips of his fingers leaving small dents behind.

He kissed you and you hoped, wished if anything, that he couldn’t hear your heart beating so fast it was overwhelming you.

He kissed you. And he kissed you like he needed you so desperately. He kissed you like as if you were his last salvation, as if kissing you was all he needed in order to breathe.

The way he moved, the way he held you, the way he made sure you were comfortable was enough to cause your brain to freeze. You were falling hard. You were falling hard for all of the men who wove their way into your heart until they held your heart tightly into their hand and you didn’t even give a single fuck. This would either end in the worst heartbreak you ever experienced, or they were willing to work the relationship out with you, and it scared the crap out of you.

You didn’t have a good nor a bad relationship in your life, you’ll admit that. Those relationships just lacked the emotional and physical connection you yearned for and here you had it in front of you now. It’s not just Jungkook, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin who have made you feel this way. The way Hobi made you smile in his text messages and the way he made sure to check on you made you connect with him even deeper. He made his way into your heart with the way his smile lit up whatever place he was in. He was so beautiful.

Yoongi was a protector and you could see that. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but he did love showing you what he felt through his actions. He may never tell you he was worried about you straight up, but he will offer to make dinner for you like he was doing now. He was more in tune with showing his care through his actions more than his words.

And Jin. He was the nicest one since the beginning. And though you haven’t had a moment alone with him due to his hectic schedule, he loved texting you random text messages that cheered you on. He loved being able to text you a message that sparked your heart and your emotions because you have never had someone send you a message of encouragement. He always did that.

Could loving these men be your biggest blessing or your worst nightmare? After all, they had a contract with you. One year to be exact and then after, you would be gone. Was it worth it? Will it be worth it?

Jimin kissed you and you kissed him back with an emotion he knew too well. You were scared just like they were.

As you separated, he placed his forehead against yours, your breaths intertwining and your lips brushing against each others. His eyes were looking at you, inspecting your every move and the way your chest heaved up and down just like his due to the lack of oxygen.

“I feel like I’m making you cheat on them,” you mumbled, your fingertips touching your lips.

He smiled reassuringly and shook his head. “They wouldn’t have told me to come here with you.”

“They know?”

“More than you know.”

Yoongi and Hobi walked with you on your garden. Yes, walked. They made sure they were walking slow with you and begging you to head inside but, you were too stubborn to listen so they made sure you were okay.

It was night already, the stars were twinkling, and the moon was not full this time like usual, you noticed. It was so thin you could only see it if you focused hard and you were focusing really hard.

Silence enveloped you three, and the boys could see your hesitation to speak up about something that was clearly troubling you due to the fact you were staring at the moon like it was her fault that you were walking. You were having a stare down with the moon they got chills on their arms.

Glancing at each other with expressions of amusement, they decided it was their time to break the silence, fully knowing that you most likely will not talk about your overbearing and will shut down instead.

“You don’t have to worry, you know?” Yoongi reassured you with a hushed voice, almost as if he spoke any louder he would wake up the rest of your neighbors. “Whatever fear you have, whatever thought you’re overthinking about, don’t let it cloud your brain from seeing what’s in front of you.”

“And what’s in front of me?” You muttered, giving him a look, clearly surprised his words were correlating with what you were overthinking about.

“People who notice you.”

You frown and stop in front of them. They could see the way your brows furrowed together in confusion and in clear conflict because whatever you were thinking about was making you fidgety. Of course they knew, though, they just didn’t know the full specifics. They had an idea on what you were thinking about, nothing more than that.

“How are you guys okay with your jealousy?” You asked, looking at them under your lashes.

The men glanced at each other.

“It’s all about boundaries,” Hobi answered with a nonchalant shrug. “Stating what we’re fine with and what you’re not. For example, if we’re satisfied enough with the people we have in our relationship, we would never seek for you, much less any other person. But, we’re open to the idea of adding in one more person.”

“What does that have—”

“If any of us kissed you,” Hobi continued, understanding what you were trying to ensue by now due to how you were quiet when you and Jimin came to eat, “we wouldn’t mind.”

“But why?” You asked.

Yoongi hid his smile, hands buried in the front pockets of his baggy jeans. “You really haven’t noticed, huh?” You shook your head. “Really? You haven’t taken a hint when Namjoon kisses you even when there’s no cameras, when Jimin kisses you and can’t stop touching you, when Jungkook and Taehyung can’t be away from you, and when me, Hobi, and Jin text you and call you 24/7 when we’re not too keen on texting or calling? Not even when we came here to make you food because we got worried you weren’t eating well?”

“I just…” You stammered out before letting out a small scoff. “I just thought you were friendly. You guys know I’m not good at this. I’m not good at taking hints.”

“When you get in relationships,” Yoongi began as you three paused to look at each other, “do you get with them because you like them or because they ask you?”

“Because they ask me,” you answered. Yoongi sighed and Hobi pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?”

“You’ve never thought about wanting to be with them because you like them or because you feel genuine feelings for them?” Hobi asked, raising a brow, hands crossed over his chest.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you explained. You pursed your lips and shrugged. “It’s just every time I liked someone, genuinely liked someone, they either did me wrong or were just with me to get fame. I broke it off kindly enough and they acted like it was fine so… I believed we ended things in a good way.”

“Oh, you sweet poor innocent angel,” Hobi breathed out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He brings you closer to him. “You never end things in a good way with someone you were with just for money. It never ends in that way, especially in their eyes. They’ll most likely come back into your life unexpectedly and wishing to get back together.”

You froze.

That explains a lot.

Nervously chuckling, you looked at the two men and sheepishly smiled. “Um, then I think my ex-boyfriend wants to get back together.”

“What?” Yoongi frowned.

“He’s been sending me text messages that he wants to see me because he misses me,” you said, scratching the back of your neck. “I just ignored him because I don’t miss him.”

Yoongi snorted at your words. You truly meant them. “I’ll deal with him. Just send me his phone number, though.”

“Yeah, I’ll send it later when you guys are leaving.” The two men nod in satisfaction at your words, beginning to walk again with you stuck between them, though now you’re closer to Hoseok. Very close. “Do you guys genuinely like me?”

“Do you?”

Did you? You’ve never heard that question get repeated back to you. You’ve never had anyone care about your feelings rather romantically like this.

Did you like them?

You smile the hardest when they’re around. You do laugh more, too. Not to forget that kissing Jimin and Namjoon makes you so dumbfounded as if kissing them shuts off your brain.

Did you?

Hobi smiled, understanding your silence for one that said a lot more than what you were saying.

“Yes,” you muttered. “I genuinely like you guys. I’m just nervous I won’t be enough in your relationship, especially since all of you have known each other far longer than I have known you. What if I’m just a burden?”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that. Making yourself overthink over a situation that hasn’t happened yet will drive you crazy so, just trust us, okay?”

You hesitated, but you knew you could. They gave you enough reasons to do so.

Heading back home, you three eyed Jimin drying his hands on a cloth you left out for him. He had been left with the duty of washing the dishes after you ate and you were happy with that.

He eyed you three back.

“So, she won’t leave once the contract ends?” He muttered, never straying his eyes away from you.

“I talked with Jin and Namjoon before coming here,” Yoongi explained. He sat down on the chair near your kitchen island and raised his hands to pull up the sleeves of his sweater. “They don’t want her gone either. For all of our sanity.”

“Sanity?” You gaped at them.

“Taehyung might be going crazy because he really wants to be with you intimately and emotionally,” Jimin snorted out. He was amused by the way Taehyung was acting and the way he was handling his emotions for you. “He’s the one who’s been overthinking about you leaving once the contract ends and that’s why he’s been wanting to be closer to you.”

“Aw,” you jutted out your bottom lip at thinking about Taehyung’s attitude towards you. “I want to see him now.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, pretty,” Jimin said, the nickname slipping off the tip of his tongue very easily. Almost as if he has been calling you that name since forever. “He and Jungkook can’t know about this right now. They both have been a bit of a… mess. Taehyung more. If he finds out that we have pursued you—”

“‘Pursued’ is crazy,” you teased, a light giggling escaping your mouth.

Jimin playfully rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if he finds out we are with you and you know we like you, he will not stop. He will immediately come here and will not let you go.”

“But that’s what I want,” you slightly whined in a tone that had the three get closer to you.

Jimin stood in front of you, his hand placed on your cheek. He was mimicking your pout. “Yeah? You want Taehyung to be here with you and kiss you and mark you and clearly never leave your side because he feels so safe with you?” You stare at him and he smiled, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “Hmm?”

“He wants to do that?”

“Badly.”

You gulped. “Never mind. We’ll wait.”

“Good girl,” Jimin said with a chuckle. He glanced down at his watch. “We’ll talk more tomorrow about this, okay?” You nodded. “Though, I’m carrying you up to your room before we leave.”

“That’s not—”

“I’m not listening to you,” Jimin scoffed out, picking you up in his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist and one of his hands was placed under your ass to prevent you from slipping.

“I feel like a big baby,” you grumbled.

“That’s what you are with the attitude you give me sometimes,” he retorted back, his eyes glancing down to your lips.

The other two behind you laughed.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Yoongi said, grabbing his keys while waving at you.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, angel,” Hobi sang, wiggling his fingers goodbye. He chuckled once you waved back just as enthusiastically.

Once you two were alone, Jimin looked at you before looking away with a ghost of a smile plastered on his face.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he simply stated.

“What?”

“Having you trust me again,” he replied, going up the steps of your stairs. “I know I was an asshole and I hope to make it up to you by taking you out to the park again.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “We’ll go with Jungkook the day after tomorrow. I know Jin wants to talk to you tomorrow since he hasn’t spent a lot of time with you.”

“Mhm.”

“So, I’ll pick you up.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He places you on your bed and since you were already in some comfy pj’s—they did come over at night—he placed the blanket over you.

He looked at you and he couldn’t get enough of you looking at him with such pretty eyes that if you found out the power of puppy eyes, he was sure he would burn the world for you. In other words, he would do anything you say and ask of him.

“Ji—”

He kissed you before you could utter his name.

And he kissed you hard and passionately it took you by surprise.

He loved kissing you, you noticed. He loved touching you, and kissing you, and holding your face in his hands so he could feel the warmth of your face at the shyness you felt.

He moved with you and let his lips brush against yours when you would back up from lack of air, but he would have your lips back on his once he couldn’t take no more of being away from you.

Backing away one more time with a singular saliva string attached on both your lips, he swore he could’ve moaned right then and there.

He was falling hard for you. He was. He definitely was. How could a person look so beautiful like you?

He didn’t know, but he felt blessed.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ BIRDS OF A FEATHER ♡·˚

— [♡] ; as satoru awakens, his shattered body held together by fragile stitches. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: amnesia, afab!reader, angst, gore description, trauma, character injury, emotional pain, grief, hurt/comfort, hopeful ending.

wc. 4K

Shoko had called for your help.

You had heard the news—Gojo had fallen. Cut down in a final, devastating blow by Sukuna. The world-slicing technique had severed him in half. The words hadn’t felt real at first, your mind unable to process the gravity of it. But the moment you stepped into the room where Shoko was working, the reality hit you like a tidal wave.

There, on the table, was Gojo. His body, broken, his skin pale, blood staining the sheets beneath him.

Your heart stopped.

Shoko had been quick and efficient, barely sparing you a glance as you stepped into the room. She was in the middle of a frantic process—using her cursed techniques to stabilize his body. But it wasn’t enough. She needed help with the physical repairs, and as much as you wanted to scream, to run, you couldn’t leave.

Shoko had given you gloves. You had forgotten to put them on.

The stitching was brutal—blood soaked your hands, his blood, as you helped sew his body back together. The torn flesh, the broken bones—it was too much. Each stitch felt like you were tying yourself to the reality of his fragility. You wanted to cry, to scream, to beg for this nightmare to end. But all you could do was push through, follow Shoko’s methodical instructions, and hope that this wasn’t the end.

“Hold the skin there—tighter,” Shoko’s voice cut through your haze, steady and sure. She was the only one who could handle this, but even she couldn’t hide the gravity of what had happened.

Your hands trembled as you followed her orders, your vision blurring with unshed tears as you watched his chest—still, unmoving.

Gojo Satoru, the invincible, the strongest… reduced to this. A lifeless body in front of you, cold and pale. The man you had loved in silence, the one who had always seemed untouchable, was on the verge of slipping away forever.

“Please…” you whispered under your breath, a silent prayer that Shoko’s efforts would be enough. That all the pain and blood wouldn’t be for nothing. “Please…”

Shoko continued her work, her brow furrowed in concentration, but you could see the strain in her eyes. She was exhausted, the toll of trying to bring Gojo back was immense, but she wasn’t giving up. Neither could you.

The minutes dragged on like hours. Every second felt like an eternity as you stitched, your hands growing numb from the constant effort. The room was suffocating, filled with the metallic scent of blood, the beeping of the equipment Shoko had set up, and the terrible, deafening silence from Satoru.

It hadn’t always been this way.

You remembered the first time you had met him. It was years ago, when you were just a new student at Jujutsu High, awkward and shy, feeling out of place among the powerful sorcerers. He had walked into the room like a whirlwind, bright and carefree, exuding confidence that made him seem untouchable.

"Hey, kid," he had greeted you with that signature smirk, his blindfold obscuring those piercing eyes. "You gonna stand there all day or you gonna learn something?"

Your heart had raced, embarrassment blooming in your chest as you stammered out a response. You were nothing compared to him—he was the strongest, the shining star everyone gravitated toward. You? You were just another student, lost in the background.

But Gojo had never treated you like that.

For all his arrogance, for all his swagger, he had always made time for you. His teasing was endless, and yet... it felt like attention. Every sarcastic comment, every mock fight, every casual gesture like flicking your forehead when you got an answer wrong or tousling your hair when you nailed a technique—it made your heart flutter, even though you knew it was just him being Gojo. He was like that with everyone. Playful. Reckless. Charming.

And you were just a part of the crowd, an afterthought in the sea of his admirers.

But you had fallen for him anyway. Hard.

Because all that mattered to you was him.

As you stood beside Shoko, your hands trembling, your mind struggling to process the scene in front of you. The cursed energy flowed from her in desperate waves as she worked, her hands moving with a surgeon’s precision, but her usual calm was gone. There was no confidence, no assurance. Just panic.

“It’s not working,” Shoko’s voice cracked, her words barely a whisper, yet they hit you like a sledgehammer. "His body... it’s rejecting the healing. The cursed energy inside him is too unstable, too fractured."

Your heart clenched painfully. You could see it—the gashes on his body were deep, visceral, tearing through muscle and bone as if he were made of paper. He was falling apart, unraveling in front of you. His blood was on your hands, literally and figuratively. You had helped Shoko stitch his wounds, but even with your combined efforts, it wasn’t enough.

It was never going to be enough.

And there was only one option left.

Your cursed technique — Eternal Rebirth.

The very thought of it made your chest tighten, made your breath hitch in your throat. You had used it before—countless times, saving people from the death at the cost of erasing yourself from their memories. It was a trade-off, one you had grown painfully accustomed to. But this... this was different.

This was Gojo.

He wasn’t just anyone. He wasn’t just another fleeting life passing through your hands. He was... everything.

The weight of that truth crushed you, bearing down on your chest like a heavy stone. All those moments—the laughter, the teasing, the way he’d casually ruffle your hair, his voice light and playful as he called you ‘kid’—they surged to the forefront of your mind. You had kept it hidden, buried beneath layers of propriety and caution. He had never known. To him, you were just another student.

But to you, he was the world.

Shoko’s eyes met yours, and you could see the silent question in them. She didn’t say it, but she knew. She always knew. The room felt colder, the silence heavier as you stood there, staring down at the man who had never truly seen you.

"Are you going to use it?" Her voice was soft, filled with a sadness that mirrored your own.

Your throat felt tight, the words lodged somewhere deep inside you, suffocating you. Instead of answering, you looked down at Gojo. Without blindfolds, revealing his eyes—those brilliant blue orbs, now dull, half-lidded and unfocused. Blood splattered his face, his lips slightly parted, chest not moving at all. He looked so peaceful in that moment.

And your heart shattered.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. The cold of his skin sent a jolt through you, a cruel reminder of what was slipping away.

"I have to," you whispered, more to yourself than to Shoko. "I can’t... I can’t let him die."

Your voice broke, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. But you blinked them away. You couldn’t cry. Not now. Not when everything was on the line. You bit down on your lip until you tasted blood, grounding yourself in the pain, forcing yourself to stay focused.

Shoko stepped back, giving you the space you needed. Her eyes were full of sorrow, of helplessness. She knew what this would cost you. She knew that no matter what you did, you would lose something tonight.

Slowly, you knelt beside Gojo, placing your trembling hands over his chest. His blood soaked through your fingers, warm and sticky, a sickening contrast to the cold, hollow ache inside you.

And you realized, with a devastating certainty, that saving him would destroy you.

Taking a shaky breath, you called on your cursed technique. It surged through you, powerful and all-consuming. Your hands glowed with a soft, ethereal light as the cursed energy began to wrap around Gojo’s body like a cocoon. You could feel it—the pull. It started slow, then intensified, like a thread being unraveled, piece by piece.

Gojo’s body twitched beneath your hands as your energy poured into him, mending what had been shattered, stitching him back together. His chest rose and fell more steadily, the bleeding stopped, and slowly—agonizingly slowly—his wounds began to close.

But with every piece of him you saved, a piece of you was lost.

You could feel it, the emptiness spreading inside you, consuming you. You were unraveling, coming apart at the seams, and you knew—oh god, you knew—that when it was over, he wouldn’t remember you. He wouldn’t remember your face, your voice, the way he’d teased you, or the way you’d loved him in silence.

He wouldn’t even remember your name.

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you fought to keep going, as the energy drained from you faster and faster, until you were gasping, barely able to hold on. But you had to finish. You couldn’t stop now. You had to save him.

You had to.

And then... it was over.

The cursed energy faded, leaving you empty, hollow. Your hands slipped from his chest, falling limp at your sides. His breathing had steadied, the rise and fall of his chest rhythmic, strong.

He was alive.

But you... you were nothing.

Gojo’s eyes fluttered open, those familiar blue eyes focusing, still dazed but unmistakably alive. He blinked, looking around, his gaze settling on Shoko. His expression was confused, but there was no recognition in his eyes. No flicker of acknowledgment.

He didn’t know you.

You stumbled back, the pain in your chest unbearable, your heart splintering with every second that passed. Shoko glanced at you, sympathy in her eyes, but you couldn’t look at her. You couldn’t look at him.

“Gojo,” Shoko’s voice was soft, careful, as if afraid to break the fragile silence. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Gojo sat up slowly, wincing, his hand going to his head. "What happened?" His voice was hoarse, but familiar. Too familiar.

You turned, your legs barely carrying you as you stumbled toward the door. You couldn’t stay here. You couldn’t bear to see him look right through you, as if you were a ghost.

Gojo Satoru had never known fear.

Not real fear, anyway. The kind that settled deep in your bones, making every breath heavy and labored. The kind that came from knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that death was upon you.

But as Sukuna’s slash tore through the fabric of reality itself—through his body—Gojo felt something he hadn’t felt in years. Panic.

The world slowed, everything blurring as his torso split cleanly in two. He’d always prided himself on his limitless potential, his unparalleled strength. He was the strongest, after all. Untouchable. Invincible.

But now, Gojo was falling. In slow motion, he saw the spray of his own blood, the sound of it rushing in his ears as his body came apart. The pain was distant, almost abstract, but the reality of what had happened hit him with brutal clarity.

This was it.

The strongest had fallen.

As his vision darkened, there was a fleeting thought of regret. Not for the battle lost, not even for the way Sukuna had outplayed him. But for the people he was leaving behind. His students—his kids—who had fought so hard to bring him back from the Prison Realm. And you. The thought of you, waiting at Jujutsu High, hit him harder than Sukuna’s attack ever could.

Then, nothing.

Gojo also didn’t expect to wake up.

But he did.

The first thing he felt was cold, seeping into his skin. His body was heavy, his limbs unresponsive. He blinked slowly, disoriented, his vision blurred. The ceiling above him was sterile, white, unfamiliar.

He was alive.

His mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The fight with Sukuna, the slash that had torn him in two—it all came rushing back in jagged fragments.

His gaze shifted to the side, and he saw Shoko, her face pale and drawn. She looked exhausted, her hands still gloved in blood—his blood.

Gojo tried to move, but his body refused to respond. Pain shot through his torso, a deep, visceral ache that made him gasp. He looked down and saw it—the ugly, jagged line of stitches that ran across his abdomen, holding his body together like some grotesque patchwork.

The strongest had been reduced to this. Broken. Weak.

“Wha… what…?” His voice came out a rasp, barely audible.

Shoko moved quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him from sitting up. “Gojo,” Shoko’s voice was soft, careful, as if afraid to break the fragile silence. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Gojo’s head spun. He had been cut in half, and yet here he was, alive. But barely. His hand instinctively moved to the stitches, fingers trembling as they traced the line of destruction that had torn him apart.

This was real. This was his body, broken and sewn back together like a ragdoll. The weight of it crashed down on him, the reality of what had happened. He wasn’t invincible. He had been so close to death.

But as he looked down at the stitches, at the blood that coated her hands and his own, the weight of the situation finally hit him.

He had died.

Sukuna had killed him. He had been cut in half, and the fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a miracle. But what kind of life was this? What kind of man was he now, stitched together like some broken doll?

He remembered everything—the fight with Sukuna, the agonizing moment when the world seemed to split apart, and the sudden, searing pain as his body was torn in half.

Yet now, here he was. Alive. Whole.

Shoko sat beside him, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "You were lucky, you know. We almost lost you."

He smirked weakly, the cocky glint that usually colored his tone absent. "You know me, Shoko. I don’t go down that easily."

She rolled her eyes but didn’t respond, her gaze heavy with something that made him uncomfortable. There was more to this than the simple act of saving him. The air between them was charged with unsaid things, but before he could probe further, he felt it—a gnawing sense of something.

It was subtle at first. An absence he couldn’t quite place, like the feeling of a word on the tip of your tongue that refuses to come out. He frowned, searching his memory for an answer. His battle with Sukuna had been devastating, but his mind remained sharp, recalling every detail—the searing pain, the world going dark.

But there was something else.

Shoko looked at him carefully, as if debating how much to say. “You know me. I did what I could with the healing, but...” she hesitated, something rare for her. "It wasn’t enough. You were... beyond saving, almost."

Gojo’s brow furrowed further. “But I’m still here.”

Shoko’s gaze softened, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. You are. Someone else helped. They made the difference.”

He raised an eyebrow, the beginnings of a grin pulling at his lips. “Ah, so we’ve got another hero on our hands, huh? Where are they? I’d like to say thanks.”

Shoko’s face tightened, her expression a mix of guilt and something unreadable. “You can’t.”

Gojo straightened, his usual casual demeanor slipping. “What do you mean? I’m still alive, Shoko. If someone helped bring me back, the least I can do is—"

“You don’t remember them.” Shoko’s words cut through his rambling, sharp and final.

For a brief moment, Gojo felt a strange weight in his chest, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Don’t remember them? How could he forget someone so important, someone who saved his life? His mind raced, trying to piece together the gap in his memory, but it was like hitting a wall, a blank space where someone should have been.

"Who?" Gojo’s voice was softer now, tinged with frustration. "Who was it?"

Shoko looked away, not meeting his gaze. “A student.”

He blinked, startled. “A student?” He tried to think, running through the faces of the students he taught and interacted with, but there was nothing. No face came to mind. No name. No technique. Just that feeling—that something was missing.

“Shoko.” His voice was steady but firm, the casual tone gone now. “What did they do to me?”

Her shoulders slumped, the weight of the truth settling heavily between them. “They used a cursed technique. One that could heal you—bring you back from the edge. But it came with a cost. For them.”

“What cost?”

“They erased themselves from your memory, Satoru.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the words hit him like a punch to the gut. “You don’t know them anymore. It’s like they never existed.”

The days had blurred into one another since the battle with Sukuna. Jujutsu High was slowly returning to its routine, though the echoes of that night still lingered. The academy’s halls were quieter than usual, with students and staff working tirelessly to rebuild and recover.

Gojo Satoru sat in a wheelchair, his body still healing from the near-fatal wound Sukuna had dealt him. Despite Shoko’s best efforts and the cursed techniques used to bring him back, his body hadn’t fully recovered. His legs still trembled with weakness, and walking—once so effortless—had become impossible for now. He hated it. Hated feeling vulnerable. But more than that, he hated the nagging sense of emptiness that followed him everywhere. It wasn’t just his body that felt broken.

It was his mind.

He spent most of his time by the window, watching the world outside with a mixture of restlessness and contemplation. The view from his room was a small comfort—a chance to observe the daily rhythm of the academy, even if he couldn’t actively participate.

It was a chilly afternoon when he first saw you again. You were in the courtyard, engaged in a seemingly mundane task—something simple, like helping one of the younger students with their gear or offering a comforting word. He was about to turn away when a sudden commotion caught his eye.

A surge of cursed energy erupted from the corner of the courtyard, sending a shockwave that knocked several students to the ground. Gojo’s heart skipped a beat, his instinct to jump into action kicking in despite his incapacitation. He saw a curse—a grotesque, twisted figure—emerging from the shadows, its eyes glowing with malicious intent.

Panic spread quickly among the students, but you moved with a determined calmness, your focus solely on the curse. Your presence, though initially unnoticed, became the eye of the storm. You approached the cursewith a steady stride, your hands glowing with a familiar cursed energy.

Gojo’s breath caught in his throat. The way you moved, the way you channeled your cursed energy—it was unmistakable. Even from a distance, he could see it clearly. The technique you used, the precision and control, were too familiar to ignore.

It hit him like a freight train. You were the student who saved him.

His eyes widened as he watched you act swiftly and decisively, saving the young student who had been caught in the curse's attack. You moved with a grace and authority that belied your usual demeanor. With a powerful surge of cursed energy, you dispatched the curse in a blaze of light, your movements fluid and controlled. The air seemed to hum with your energy, a stark contrast to the chaos that had preceded it.

As the last remnants of the curse vanished, you turned to the injured student, your hands hovering over them with a soft, healing glow. Gojo’s heart pounded as he took in the sight. The way you worked so effortlessly, the way you seemed to be in your element—it was clear now. You were the one who had sacrificed so much to save him.

Once the threat was neutralized and the injured student was safely taken care of, you made your way back towards the infirmary, unaware of the eyes watching you from the window above. You were lost in your thoughts, the familiar weight of your burden heavy on your shoulders.

Gojo couldn’t stay in his wheelchair any longer. With great effort, he pushed himself up and made his way to the door, determined to confront you. His legs still wobbled, and every step was painful, but his resolve was unwavering.

Shoko, who had been monitoring his condition, saw him struggle and hurried over. “Satoru, what are you doing? You’re supposed to rest.”

“I need to see her,” Gojo said firmly, his voice strained but resolute. “I need to talk to her.”

Shoko hesitated, her eyes flickering with concern. But she saw the determination in his eyes and relented, guiding him carefully out of the infirmary.

You were just passing by, heading towards the staff room to report the incident, when you heard the sound of the infirmary door creaking open. You looked up to see Shoko pushing Gojo’s wheelchair, his expression a mix of pain and determination. Your heart skipped a beat, the reality of your situation crashing over you once more.

Gojo’s eyes locked onto you, and there was something intense, almost searching, in his gaze. He called out, his voice carrying a weight that made you stop in your tracks.

You turned slowly, your expression a mixture of apprehension and resignation. “Gojo-sensei.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving you. “You’re the one who saved me. Aren’t you?”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “I am.”

There was a long silence as Gojo studied you, his eyes searching your face as if trying to reconcile the pieces of a puzzle. “I’ve been trying to remember. There was something missing—something important. And I think I finally understand.”

You felt your heart ache at his words, the weight of your sacrifice pressing down on you. “Gojo-sensei...”

“I remember your presence,” he said slowly, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and relief. “I remember the energy you used. It was... different. It felt like a part of me was... reconnected.”

Shoko watched from the side, her expression a mix of sympathy and concern. She knew how painful this revelation would be for both of you.

Gojo continued, his gaze softening. “I don’t know everything. I don’t remember your face, your name, but I can’t forget the feeling you left behind. It’s like a shadow in my mind that won’t go away.”

You took a shaky breath, tears welling in your eyes. “It was my choice, Gojo-sensei.”

His eyes widened, understanding dawning on him. “You did that for me?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “It was the only way. I couldn’t let you carry the burden of knowing who I was, of what I did. It was too much.”

Gojo’s expression softened, a mixture of gratitude and sorrow in his eyes. “I don’t know why you did it, but I want to thank you. For everything.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, your voice trembling. “You don’t need to thank me. I did what I had to do.”

There was another long silence, filled with unspoken emotions. Gojo’s gaze remained steady, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and sacrifice you had endured.

Shoko cleared her throat gently. “Maybe now is not the time for more discussion. Gojo, you should rest, and you, you need to take care of yourself, too.”

Gojo nodded reluctantly, though his eyes never left you. “We’ll talk more later. When you’re ready.”

You managed a small, sad smile, nodding in return. “Yes, Gojo-sensei. Whenever we're ready.”

As Shoko wheeled Gojo back towards the infirmary, you watched them go, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your sacrifice maybe had not been in vain. Gojo may not remember everything, but he remembered enough.

And for now, that was enough.

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

Not fulfilling meals

Summary: As the days go on, the Gojo estate remains cold, as you and Satoru didn't really talk to each other. Would your arranged marriage ever be bearable? Well, Gojo wants to try.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 2980 words

Part 1 Masterlist

Author's note:

Well I guess this is my 100 followers special?? Like you guys are so sweet, how did I deserve your kind comments?? I hope you like this part too <3 (This will be a slow burn, I'm sorryyy :'), if you want to be added to the taglist, just say so it's no problem <3 your comments make my day :))

The jujutsu world was Gojo Satoru's world.

He knew, he was the strongest. He knew, he destroyed the balance of the jujutsu world just by being born. He knew, it was expected of him to keep this power in the hands of the Gojo clan.

He knew, he should marry and get an heir. An heir, who would be even stronger than him.

But he was selfish. Wanted to live his life, without a timer that says when he should have a kid.

He wanted to have control of his life. And if that was so selfish, well then he would gladly be it.

That's what he always thought. But right now, as he didn't see you for the third day in a row, he felt guilty.

Guilty, because he didn't really dislike you. Hell, he didn't even know you. He disliked that you two had to marry. Hated, that it wasn't his choice.

The last days were colder than usual. He felt your presence in this house and that you avoided him like the plague. Everytime he sat down at the table in the living room to eat, he would hear the words you threw at him.

He should be glad. You said, you wouldn't bother him and you kept your word. You didn't even come out of your room when he was around.

So why did he hate it?

He sat at the table in the living room with his breakfast. And he waited. Waited, even though he had to do missions. Waited, even though his brain was telling him to leave.

He waited.

'SO EXCUSE ME. IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL!'

His phone rang and a message from Suguru popped up.

"Where are you, Satoru?"

Satoru should stand up an leave. Should eat and leave. But his consciousness didn't want him to leave. His phone rang again. Should he leave or stay?

He waited.

'AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!'

His empty plate looked at him. His own reflection raising an eyebrow at his behavior.

He stood up. Slowly he moved to your door. Looked at the closed door and wondererd if he should knock. Just ask you to eat with him.

'I DON'T WANT-'

He turned around and went to his missions, like he was supposed to. Like his senses told him.

~

Your room was so cold. Even when you hid under your supposedly warm covers, you started to shiver at the thought that you will always sleep here.

You were scared.

Gojo was longer and longer in the living room, every morning he made himself ready to leave. And today morning he was in front of your room.

You were so scared of the conflict with him.

Not that you felt guilty, you didn't feel sorry for what you said or anything like that. But the overwhelming fear that he would tell his clan members about the issues in your marriage would mean your doom.

Today was a meeting with your mother and the higher ups.

Your mother made clear that the meetings will be on a regularly basis in the letter. And she hoped that 'you could deliver good news'.

She meant deliver a kid.

No, your blanket didn't keep you warm. And it didn't protect you from all evil like your child self foolishly thought.

~

"You are late." As Satoru's best friend looked at him, he almost looked concerned.

"Sorry, slept in a bit." Satoru didn't look him in the eyes. "Where is the mission?"

Suguru inspected him a bit and then waved his hand. "Don't bother, I will do it today. You can rest today."

Satoru laughed a bit, but was confused when Suguru didn't laugh with him. "Wait, you mean that?"

"Yeah, Satoru." Suguru sighed. "You look like you need a break. And maybe," Suguru's voice grew a bit softer.

"You could talk to her about it, instead of working yourself dead."

Satoru scoffed as he looked to the side. "She doesn't want to see me. Like ever."

The following silence spoke loudly. And Satoru knew that it was his own fault.

But what was he supposed to do now? What did you want from him? How should he know, when you two didn't talk? How?

"Just go home Satoru."

~

"Don't raise your head to high. Just because you are married to Gojo, doesn't mean you will get the same treatment." Your mother pressed her lips together disapprovingly.

"Yes, mother."

She nodded and sighed as you waited for the other Clan members and higher ups to show up.

Your hands were shaking so you kept them hidden in your lap trying to gain the control other them again. But your anxiety grew by every second.

You weren't made for this pressure, this life. You weren't made for being the wife of the strongest.

You felt weak.

"They are here." A servant announced and your heart felt like it exploded.

"Good. Let them in." Your mother spoke calm and collected, like the power of the jujutsu society wasn't in her house. How did she become so untouchable?

As the door opened, you could feel the atmosphere becoming more sharp.

The higher ups were old. But that just made them more menacing for you. Those people were always just some force that would control your purpose, to you.

Now that force stood before you.

You looked down at your hands and you could feel their stares. Your hands were sweating madly as you began holding your breath.

You felt so small.

Gojo would keep his head up. He wouldn't fall into himself, he wouldn't care about their stares. Why couldn't you be like that?

Because you weren't born like him.

"Mrs. Gojo." The voice of an eldery woman. "How did you sleep tonight?"

What did they want from you? Why were you his wife, for God's sake? Why did you have to be a girl? Why, why, why?

"I slept well, thank you." You tried everything to keep your voice steady in front of them. Just try to not look so weak, okay?

"So can we asume an heir is on the way?"

"What?" Too surprised, you raised your head forgetting your mother's words.

And that made the stares just worse. The eyes were piercing you.

"You didn't sleep with him?" An old man looked disapprovingly at you. A man you didn't know.

He looked at your mother. "I thought we made it clear, that the heir was top priority!"

Your mother's eyes were boring into your head. "You did, and she knows that. I hope she knows her duties as his wife."

She didn't even talk to you. "I know." you looked down again. "We just didn't have the time to get to know each other-"

"What does that matter?" The eldery woman from the beginning sounded annoyed. "Knowing each other wasn't really your duty."

Your vision started to get blurry. Why?

"Well you at least talked about the honeymoon, right? Then you have time for your duties." You didn't know if your mother was trying to help you, or was trying to help the higher ups.

"No, we didn't really-"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, FOR WHAT DID YOU THEN HAVE TIME?" The man was yelling now. "WE GAVE YOU FOUR DAYS! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?"

It was difficult to breathe. Your mouth was hard to open and dry. Your neck was feeling sore, because of the looking down. Your eyes were...

Why did you even show up to the meeting?

Gojo wouldn't have bowed to their will. He would stand up. But you can't.

You just can look down.

"This will be more work than we hoped." You didn't try to differentiate their voices anymore.

"You have a lot to learn about how things work here." You felt like being pushed down onto the ground.

"Mrs. Gojo."

~

Satoru was feeling sick. You were nowhere to be found and he knew nothing about anything. The Servants couldn't tell him anything either.

First he thought you just needed a bit time for yourself and went for a walk or something.

That's what he thought ten hours ago.

Before he spend the whole day with megumi and tsumiki. Before he came home at 8 pm and you were still not home.

Was this it? Did you hate him this much, you would just leave?

Maybe he really fucked up that bad.

And as he was pacing up and down in the living room, dinner still untouched on the table, he felt terrible.

He didn't feel bad, when he skipped the meetings. No, he felt bad after he saw who he was hurting.

He was an asshole.

Why did you have to remind him of that? Suguru was doing that enough already. But when you did it, it stung much more and he didn't know why.

"Mr. Gojo?"

He flinched as he heard the voice of the little girl. Another reminder of you. The servant girl who was named Hina. Which he didn't know.

"Yes?"

"The food is cold. Should we make it hot again?"

Oh. The food.

As he looked at the planned dinner he felt sorry for making her work again. And you also had to eat today.

"Wait. My wife isn't home yet, we will wait for her."

The girl blinked two times before slowly nodding. "If you wish so." With that she took the food with her to the kitchen.

Satoru didn't know what to do. You were such a mystery to him, would you really go as far as just leaving and never coming back?

He didn't know. Satoru stood there in the living room clueless. Didn't know if his wife would just run away or not. Ironic, isn't it?

Where were you? What should he do?

'SO EXCUSE ME. IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL!'

He sat down. And he waited.

~

You were tired. So, so tired.

The meeting was long. Countless yelling and accusations at you. Tips for in bed and advice how to convince him to sleep with you.

You felt sick.

Sick, because they want to hear from you weekly, how your 'sex life' with Gojo is going. All these old people obsessed with making a new prodigy for their schemes.

"You are replaceable." They told you. "We can find a new wife to get an heir."

"So stop, resisting."

"Do it for your Clan."

These people weren't right in the head. They were truly sick.

And as all these faces left, normal breathing was allowed. Your heart was working overtime all these hours and you felt dizzy.

"Why are you still here? Go home and start fufilling your duties."

Your mother still sat next to you, angry and stone cold.

"I don't know him." your voice was shaking. "I can't-"

"I didn't know your father too." Her voice was sharp. "Still I had priorities. And those should be your Clan."

Her body seemed like a statue. Unshakable.

"Mother, I don't think he wants-"

"NONSENSE!"

Her sudden yelling made you flinch. She took a breath and then spoke in her unshakable voice again.

"He is a man. They always want. And one day he will just take."

She stood up. She didn't seem unshakable anymore. No, she was more unreachable, it wouldn't matter what you said.

"Your car is ready to leave." That were her last words before she left.

You were always left alone.

~

As you took the final steps to the Gojo estate, you felt tired like never before. Only now you realized that you haven't eaten since breakfast.

You hoped Hina didn't worry to much and they had something ready. You just wanted to eat and sleep.

'Maybe I won't sleep so badly tonight,' you thought as you rang the door bell. 'Since I can't even stand properly, from all the sitting. And I should get my own key, since'

The door in front of you swung open with force and blue eyes were locked in yours.

"Where-"

He stopped himself as he looked at you. There was something in his look that you couldn't put your finger on.

"Are you okay?"

His look was becoming unbearable for you, so you looked down.

"Yeah."

He just nodded and let you in. You hesitated before going in, not knowing what to do in his presence.

As you looked around, you noticed the empty dinner table. But what really caught your eye was that his plate was clean and not even touched.

"Hina," He remembered her name? You thought he would never... "We can eat now."

We?

"Or have you eaten already?"

You didn't dare look at him. What was all this about? Why was he even talking to you?

"No." you cleared your dry throat. "I haven't eaten already."

He hummed and ordered Hina and the other chefs to warm up dinner.

Hesitant, you sat down at the other side of the big table. Awkwardly you looked around, feeling out of place, because of the sudden attention.

"Why are you already home? You worked longer the last days. You weren't here before 11 pm." Finally you found your voice.

Gojo looked at you and firstly didn't say anything. Then he looked away and cleared his throat. "I... Just had no missions today. So I came home early."

"Oh."

Hina showed up like a savoir for this conversation and brought dinner.

But she brought for two persons.

"You haven't eaten already?" you looked down at your plate, trying to eat normally but your position was so stiff it wasn't easy.

"No, i-" he stopped in his sentence and looked down at his plate. "I wasn't really hungry till now."

You just nodded, while trying to eat as quiet as possible. The silence between you was palpable. The only sond was the slicing of the knives.

You tried to keep yourself steady. You really shouldn't eat too fast or he would think you were running. Which you technically were, but he didn't have to know it.

"Where," Gojo tried to sound casual. "Where were you?"

You stopped eating and thought about what you should say. He shouldn't know about the meetings. Shouldn't know that you were 'trained' to be his duties fulfilling wife.

"I visited my mother." Technically not a lie. "She wants to meet me regularly."

He nodded and continued eating. Looked like he was satisfied. He shouldn't think you were unfaithful or anything like that.

"Do you have a good relationship with her?"

Your eyes widened and you looked up to really look him in the eyes. Those beautiful eyes.

"Good enough." your voice was barely a whisper. But he nodded like he was listening carefully to everything you said.

"Should I come with you some time?" he leaned a bit back in his seat. "Or do you think she doesn't want to see me?"

As you thought about all the times your mother ranted about Gojo because of his irresponsibility, you couldn't help but chuckle. "I don't think so."

His position stiffed a bit. "Why do you think so?"

"She thinks you are careless." Your voice was growing cold. "Because the meetings you missed, Gojo."

"Oh. Yeah right." He looked down again and mumbled something incoherently.

You didn't ask what he said.

The silence between you came back as you finished your meal. And as you were finished, you stood up taking your now empty plate with you.

"I will bring that in the kitchen." You could finally turn away from him and his eyes. "Good night."

You didn't really expect an answer. But Gojo seemed to like to surprise you.

"Good night, sleep well. You look exhausted, try to rest now."

Your traitor of a heart started to pound louder, like you were in a bad romance novel. Your mind told it to shut up, while you walked out of the reach of his eyes and presence into the kitchen.

You walked to Hina and handed her your plate with a smile, while telling yourself to breathe normally.

"Thank you, dear, it tasted fantastic."

The girl smiled back at you. "Happy to hear that, Mrs. Gojo. We were also happy to see you two eating together."

"Oh well," you waved her statement away. "It won't happen again I think. Was just a coincidence."

The girl in front of you looked confused and shook her head. "No, Mr. Gojo specifically ordered to wait for you to eat dinner. His food was ready 2 hours ago."

You couldn't help but blink at her. He waited for you?

A tiny little hopeful thought slid into your head, speaking quietly but still steady.

Maybe-

~~

It was already later than usual as Satoru sat in the living room. His breakfast still untouched he fought with himself.

Your door was still closed.

No, one evening couldn't open a locked door so easily. And as he stared at your empty seat he wondered. Why was this table even that big?

He should change that.

Did you always wait for him to leave before you ate?

Weren't you hungry?

'I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!'

His phone rang as a new message popped up. It was from Suguru.

'Are you still home, Satoru?'

He stood up. This was dumb. He was acting dumb.

He knocked at your door. "Are you coming for breakfast?"

~

Maybe Satoru wasn't all bad.

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